Pretenders to the Name
by Zylly
Summary: When the mysterious Metalhawk and his band of rogue Autobots make themselves known, it can only spell trouble for the Earthforce! Can they defeat these powerful and danergous foes? And just what does Metalhawk want with Marissa? (Episode 2 of the Earht


"Marissa?"

The sudden voice made Marissa turn around, but the street lights and the pale moonlight did little to help her find the speaker. Her apartment was far from being in a bad part of town, but it was still very late. A meeting with Artfire to discuss plans for a Space Bridge-type network running around the Earth had run longer than expected, and Stepper had only just dropped her off, speeding away and around the corner.

"Over here," the voice said, and turning towards the source, she saw four fairly unassuming men: a husky, sandy haired one; a thin blond with glasses; a slim one whose dark hair came slightly to a point, and ...

"General Hawk?" Impossible. He'd been dead for decades, killed on the last official mission of GI Joe. Her hand slipped to her holster, carefully and discreetly gripping the handle of her blaster.

"It's been a long time," 'Hawk' said. "A general...and still serving the EDC. Your father would be very proud."

In one fluid motion, she drew the blaster and pointed it at him, ignoring his silent partners for the time being. "You don't get to talk about my father. And how dare you claim the face..."

"Marissa, I know this is difficult to believe, but I am...or rather, I was, once General Hawk. I remember, on the last mission... Duke had already been killed, and we'd lost track of Snake-Eyes and Scarlet. Your father was prepared to detonate the explosives himself... He would have, gladly, but I wasn't going to let him die and leave you alone. He told me I was too valuable to do it... And then I revealed myself to him. Got him out of there and detonated them myself, faked my death."

As 'Hawk' spoke, a faint memory came to Marissa, something her father had said on his deathbed. At the time, she'd simply chalked it up to the painkillers, but he'd said _"If you ever see Hawk...trust him. Trust him."_

She kept the blaster pointed at him, nevertheless. "All right. I'll listen, but talk quickly." She cast a glance at the other three, who'd just stood by and watched during her exchange with Hawk. "And don't any of you think of trying anything either."

"They won't," Hawk said. "First, Marissa, you should know that my friends and I are Transformers...Autobots."

"Right. Somehow, I have trouble believing that."

The husky man shook his head. "I told ya she wouldn't buy it, 'hawk."

"You must believe us, General," the man with the glasses said. "We would offer proof now, but it would attract undue attention."

"I don't think we've got a choice, Landmine," the dark-haired one said.

Hawk shook his head. "Fine. If we offer you some proof, will you come with us?"

"That depends on how much I like your proof," Marissa said.

Each of them nodded slightly, then brought their left arms up and pushed a button on their watches. There was a flash of light that made them hard to see, then, when they were visible again, each was wearing a suit of high-tech armor. Red, white, and blue for Hawk, gold and gray for the one the other had called Landmine, red and blue for the dark-haired man, and black and gray for the husky one.

"Nice trick, but that's hardly proof."

Hawk just closed his eyes and appeared to be counting silently to himself. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but it looks like we'll have to make you come with us. Landmine, Waverider, Cloudburst--let's get this over with."

Suddenly a bolt of lightning tore through the air, striking Hawk in the chest and sending him slamming through the brick wall behind him.

Marissa cast a glance back and saw Stepper, smoke coming out of the barrel of his rifle. "Saw them when I dropped you off," he said. "Thought I'd stick around to watch."

"You don't want to get involved in this," the one in gold—Landmine—said. "Stay out of it. It's none of your business." He brought up a rifle. "Don't make me hurt you."

Stepper actually chuckled. "Don't make me laugh."

Landmine fired his rifle and the beam struck Stepper square in the chest, knocking him back and to his knees.

"OK," he said, "now I'm mad."

"You were warned," Hawk said, climbing out of the hole he'd created. "But this can stop, if you're willing to listen."

"Not likely, fleshling."

"Fleshling? Hardly. I'm as much Autobot as you. We all are," Hawk said. He tapped a button on his chest armor. "Pretender shell off." The other three did the same.

There was another flash of light, but when this one ended, where Hawk had once stood has a largish gold and blue Transformer. Likewise, a gray Autobot had appeared for Landmine, a red one for Cloudburst, and a black one for Waverider.

The Autobot that had replaced Hawk spoke. "My name is Metalhawk, of Cybertronian Command, Vector Section. And if you do not stand down, it is within my power to place you under arrest...or to terminate you."

The familiar sound of Autobot engines brought a smile to Marissa's face as Artfire pulled up alongside Stepper and transformed, disgorging Twincast from his cab. A moment later, Slamdance dropped down from the sky and landed next to them.

Stepper was actually grinning by this point. "Don't think I'll be standing down."

Battles between Transformers were never especially pleasant to watch; they cost too much in damage to property, risk to civilians, and, sometimes, casualties. And then there was that one battle between the Dinobots and Abominus that Marissa never wanted to remember, but sometimes still saw in her nightmares. But all those battles, save for those fought during the Hate Plague infestation, had been between Autobots and Decepticons. What she now saw...was Autobot against Autobot.

Marissa had reviewed the profiles of each of the Earthforce Autobots in great detail and knew them to be some of the best there was at their respective functions, but the other Autobots, the new ones, seemed even stronger, and far more ruthless.

The one called Landmine had converted to some sort of car mode and was firing bursts from a roof-mounted laser at Twincast. Where each burst hit, bits of his armor would melt away, revealing the circuitry within. Still, he was able to mount at least a partial defense, firing bursts from his sonic-gun and randomly transforming to his radio-mode to dodge incoming fire. Finally, one blast pierced him straight through the chest and he fell down and did not get back up.

In the air, Slamdance traded lasers and missiles with Cloudburst, who had converted to a space-jet mode. While Slamdance flew through the air effortlessly, Cloudburst practically seemed to dance through it, flying rings around the cassette combiner. A burst of fire from his nosecone-mounted cannon took out the portion of Slamdance that was Grand Slam, forcing Slamdance to separate, with Raindance continuing to fly and fight, while Grand Slam fell to the ground below. However, still reeling from the separation as he was, Raindance was easy pray for Cloudburst's missiles.

Stepper and Waverider grappled with each other, their hands locked, seemingly evenly matched in strength. While neither was able to throw the other, they weren't able to break each other's grip either. This struggle continued until Stepper simply fell backwards, letting momentum take its course, and letting Waverider slam into the nearest building. He followed this up by quickly firing a burst from his lightning rifle.

The battle between Artfire and Metalhawk was the most brutal to watch. Metalhawk leapt around like a petro-rabbit, firing what looked like arrows of light from his gun. Artfire did his best to dodge, but Marissa knew that his particular configuration didn't make him very agile. Worse, he could only fire back sporadically, as his primary weapon, a fireball cannon, could be quite dangerous if he missed.

As another arrow of light ripped into him, Artfire showed innovation, transforming to his firetruck mode and hitting Metalhawk full-force with a high pressure water spray. As the blast of water knocked the gold Transformer off his feet, Artifre switched fluids, changing from water to a stream of super-heated lead, and then to liquid nitrogen. The sudden shift in temperatures was enough to crack Metalhawk's armor and freeze him where he landed.

Artfire immediately transformed and threw himself into a roll, mere seconds before a blast from Landmine's cannon would have punctured his cab. He returned fire, winging the gray Autobot with a blast of flame. Landmine transformed and drew his rifle, charging Artfire as he fired. As he did, Artfire retracted his left hand into its socket and fired a stubby missile at the street in front of Landmine. In an explosion of white, it covered the ground in fire-retardant foam. Landmine let out a yelp as his feet slipped and he hit the pavement hard. Artfire quickly shot him with another blast from his fireball cannon and put him out of the fight.

Meanwhile, Stepper took a series of shots at the still airborne Cloudburst, but even his uncanny aim wasn't enough to score a hit on the flier. Taking temporary cover behind a parked car, Marissa could see the light of inspiration dawn on his face. Then, to Marissa's horror, he took hold of the car and _hurled_ it at Cloudburst. It impacted with a heavy clank and sent the flier falling from the sky. The car, meanwhile, continued on its arc through the air, hit the pavement, bounced three times, and finally exploded.

This whole mess was going to be a paperwork nightmare.

"I've completed repairs to Twincast," Medi-1 said as she entered the conference room and took a seat next to Marissa's modified chair. Designed with anti-gravity units, it let her hover at roughly head height to the Autobots, thus making conversation easier. "He'll be ready for duty in a few hours."

"But," she continued, "Grand Slam and Raindance will take much longer. I'm...not as familiar with their designs as I should be. Twincast usually handles their repairs."

Artfire nodded slightly. "Unfortunate...but it will have to do for now. They _will_ be all right, won't they?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. And our prisoners? How're they holding up?"

"I completed basic repairs on them, then placed them in stasis in the repair chambers..." Her voice trailed off, as though she wished to say more.

"Yes, Medi?" Artfire prompted. "Is there something more?"

"I...can't say I'm exactly comfortable having them here, in stasis or not. They nearly killed all of you and would have done Primus knows what to Marissa..."

"They wouldn't have killed us," Stepper said, finally speaking.

"How can you be so sure?" Marissa asked.

"Because, fle... General, I'm a trained killer. So're these guys. If they wanted us dead, we'd be dead. They knew how to do _just_ enough damage to put us out of the fight so they could do what they wanted."

"You sure we weren't just better than them?" Artfire asked.

"Absolutely not. These guys were Section Vector."

"That's a load of beryllium bologna," Artfire snapped. "There ain't no such thing."

"Yes, yes there is. They're a special operations unit, designed to do _whatever_ it takes to get the job done. Blackmail, assassination, financial ruin, threatening family. _Everything and anything_ that gets the job done. And the jobs they do are the worst of the worst."

"You're kidding, right?" Marissa asked. _It wasn't possible, was it?_

"We're Autobots," Artfire said, voicing her thoughts, "we don't do that kind of thing. _Prime_ wouldn't allow it."

"_Optimus_ Prime, no," Stepper shot back. "This was formed back in the days of Sentinel Prime, answerable to no one."

"How...how do you know this, Stepper?" Medi asked.

"Because I used to be a part of it."

As Artfire had asked Marissa and Medi-1 to leave him alone with Stepper, the two decided to head to the med-lab to check on Twincast. "A shame Convoy and Furmanata had to go to Cybertron," Medi-1 said. "I don't think it would have gone nearly as badly if Convoy had been there."

"He's a mite more level headed than some of the people around here," Marissa said, "but I still think a confrontation would have happened. It just would have been over sooner."

"As for the Quint," she continued, lowering her voice, "as far as I'm concerned, he can stay gone."

"Marissa..." Medi began, "Furmanata is on our side. He's more than proven that and his, ah, outbursts are getting more infrequent by the day. He hasn't called any of us 'useless automatons' or 'consumer scrap' in weeks."

"Maybe," Marissa allowed, "but I've got bad memories with his kind."

"And you think I don't?"

Despite, or perhaps because of, the deadpan in Medi's tone, Marissa couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Point taken. I know...he's not the one that kidnapped me and nearly got Ultra Magnus killed, but I see him, and I see every vile act the Quintessons have ever committed."

"Convoy wouldn't allow him to be here if he didn't think it was safe, Marissa. That's good enough for me."

"I suppose so, but-- What on Earth?"

The med-bay was in shambles, the four repair chambers where "Hawk" and his group had been held were shattered, and there was no sign of them anywhere. Only the repair chambers containing Twincast and the cassettes remained untouched.

Medi-1 tapped her communicator. "Medi-1 to Artfire. Our prisoners have escaped."

"Begin a search for them. I'll dispatch Stepper and have Teletran scan for them."

"Understood," Medi-1 replied. "Let's go, Marissa."

They'd almost made a very serious blunder. When Artfire had commanded Teletran-4 to scan the Earthforce base for the four Autobots, that was all he'd done. It had been Stepper who'd pointed out their ability to assume human disguises. At such a small size, particularly without their multi-colored armor, it would have been all too easy for them to evade detection.

Unfortunately, even scanning for human life signals had proved futile. It had turned up only one, Marissa's.

Meeting back up in the control room, they could come to only one conclusion.

"They've escaped," Artfire said. "We'll send up a Sky-Spy to search for them. In the meantime, I want you to remain here, General. At least we'll stand a chance of being able to protect you."

"I'm _not_ going into hiding, Artfire. That's not how I do things."

"Marissa, please," Medi said, "it's for your own safety. Primus only knows what they wanted with you."

"They've not gone," Stepper said, cutting off any reply Marissa might have made. "Or rather, the four of them are gone... But I'm still here. And I'm taking Marissa." He brought up his weapon. "Whether you like it or not."

"Like slag you are," Artfire said, bringing up his own weapon. Medi-1 did likewise. Still, Marissa could see their hands shake slightly. As she knew she would be in a similar circumstance, they were hesitant to fire on a friend.

"_Run!"_ Artfire yelled, placing his blocky form between her and Stepper. Even as she did so, Stepper acted, blasting Artfire right in the chest. But rather than the usual bolt of blue-lightning, the gun spat of a bolt of what seemed to be clear energy. The clear bolt hit Artfire dead center and he reeled like he'd been punched. Medi-1 fired her own gun—a simple laser rifle—but Stepper proved too agile, leaping out of the way and blasting Medi, taking her down.

Then Stepper pointed his gun at Marissa, adjusted a dial on it, and then all she knew was a shortness of breath followed by numbing blackness...

Marissa awoke strapped into the interior of a vehicle, a vehicle which was definitely not Stepper. Oh, certainly, there were similarities in basic design, but whoever had designed this interior had heavily modified it for covert purposes: a large radio of some sort and scanner dominated most of the dashboard.

"Let me out..._now!_"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," the vehicle replied. The voice was slightly high, almost youngish sounding, though tinged with the slightest hint of a threat. "Metalhawk wants you, so to Metalhawk you go."

The car pulled to a stop in front of a seemingly abandoned warehouse and her restraints retracted as a door snapped open. The car titled slightly and she tumbled out, landing hard on her rear end; she bit her lip to keep from yelling out in surprise—she'd be damned if she'd give her kidnapper even that much.

The car—possessed of the same alternate mode as Stepper, but with a dusty-gold paint job—transformed into a similarly designed Autobot, and then, in a flash of light, was replaced by a human in blue and white armor. He pointed his rifle at her. "My air rifle works just as well at this size, General. I'll use it if I have to."

Scowling slightly, Marissa entered the building ahead of the...Autobot, for lack of a better word. Her father's last words rang in her ears again. "_If you see Hawk, trust him._"

She entered a large, open room, dominated by various human-scale computers and crates that appeared to contain weapons and equipment. Standing in the middle of it all, wearing their human guises and armor, were Cloudburst, Landmine, and Waverider.

"Finally back, eh, Ranger?" Cloudburst asked. "Not bad. But next time...could you avoid throwing cars at me? That _hurt_."

"Had to," her captor, whom she assumed to be "Ranger", said. "It's what the real Stepper would have done. And I can't say I appreciate being the only one here saddled with an Earth-mode, just because I've got a similar body-type..."

"You were the only one who could pull off the impersonation" a voice from behind Marissa said. It was Hawk. "You know our line of work demands sacrifice."

"Yeah, I know..." Ranger replied, grinning slightly. "Just letting off steam. Don't like shooting other Autobots, even when it has to be done."

"You all keep talking about what 'has to be done'" Marissa snapped, turning to face Hawk. "But what '_has to be done?' _ What could be worth all this?"

Hawk closed his eyes for a second and seemed to be considering something. Then, after what seemed like much too long, he spoke, "Keeping your Autobot friends from destroying the world."

"OK, so you're secretive _and_ stupid," Marissa said. "The Autobots? Destroy the Earth?" It was an insane notion. Of course, so was the idea that the Autobots would leave a secret force behind. So was the notion of a black ops Autobots unit. So was the idea of a trustworthy Quintesson.

Marissa quickly terminated that line of thinking.

"I know...," Hawk said, speaking in that same firm, reassuring voice she remembered from the times she'd met him as a child, "I know this sounds strange, Marissa, but I'm asking you to trust us."

"Then you're going to have to give me details."

"Toldja she'd be a hard sell, 'hawk. Shoulda just left her out of it," the one in black armor—Waverider—said.

"Waverider...be quite. She's involved and she deserves to know," Landmine told him.

Hawk held up a hand and silenced his troops. "First, you should know that we were placed on this planet many thousands of years before the Autobots and Decepticons on-board the Ark reawakened, integrating ourselves into your society and reinventing our identities when needed. Because the ship was in such a damaged and inactive state, we were unable to locate it until it was too late to prevent their re-awakening. We never had need to involve ourselves in their affairs, though we came dangerously close to having to intervene when Omega Supreme first arrived."

"Why? Why were you on Earth?"

Surprised crossed Hawk's features. "I would think you'd know, Marissa. Yours is a world full of usable energy, ripe for use. Some of our scientists even believe natural energon may exist here..."

"Right. And the Earthforce is here to keep that from happening. Only without the kidnapping and murder."

"Always regrettable," Hawk said, sounding like he meant it, "but...sometimes necessary."

"That still doesn't explain how the Autobots are going to destroy the Earth."

Hawk sighed before he spoke again. "This is...complicated. What I'm doing now is dangerous, almost as dangerous as what has...and what will happen."

"...If you're not going to make sense..."

"All right, full disclosure then. In the near future, you and the Autobots Twincast, Grand Slam, and Raindance will be transported to the early nineteen-eighties because of a space bridge accident. Events there will bring the Earth dangerously close to destruction. Only the intervention of myself and GI Joe will prevent it."

"So you stopped it and the Earth wasn't destroyed, right?"

"But it came dangerously close...too close. Telling you this...history's likely already changing. We have to stop the Autobots, prevent this from happening...by whatever means necessary. The first step of which is preventing your association with them."

Marissa took a big step back and reached for a blaster that wasn't there—Ranger must have disarmed her. Even if her father had told her to trust Hawk... She just couldn't. This was just too much to believe, even with all the strange things she'd experienced. "Even if I believe you—which I don't—I still don't trust you. You kidnapped me and must have done God knows what with Stepper..."

"Oh, him," Cloudburst said, "he's fine. Ranger knocked him out while we were talking to you way back when. He's out, but he's OK."

"Why? You obviously could have beaten the Earthforce if you'd outnumbered them..."

"So we could take down your computers," Hawk said. "If Ranger hadn't...they would have been able to track us."

Marissa had to fight the urge to smile. Black ops or not, these...Autobots...couldn't think of everything. They were in for quite the surprise. "All right," she said finally. "I'm willing to listen more...if I can make certain Stepper is all right first."

Landmine and Cloudburst, at Hawk's order, led Marissa to the base's small med-bay. It contained only two stasis pods—one of which held Stepper—and a bank of medical scanners. A quick glance at the monitors told her that Stepper was fine, just being kept in stasis lock. Good...

She took a few careful steps forward, discreetly palming the item she'd had hidden in her sleeve. She briefly touched the nearest computer console, looking as though she were examining the readouts.

She was doing that, that was for certain, but she was also readying the trap...

"NOW!" she yelled and tossed the other item she'd been carrying--Raindance.

The cassette flew from her hand and transformed, even while Grand Slam, deposited in the computer, worked on freeing Stepper. Caught by surprise, Cloudburst and Landmine were hit hard by the jet-Autobot's missiles.

"And that's another victory for the good guys!" Raindance yelled, swooping back around for another pass, even as Cloudburst and Landmine drew their weapons.

Caught by surprise, Raindance had been able to hit them hard. But now that they were ready...

It was a good thing Stepper's stasis chamber opened when it did. The gold-faced Autobot didn't ask questions, he simply leapt forward, slamming a fist into Landmine and quickly delivering a series of punches. At human-size, even with his protective shell, he was easy prey for Stepper's assault. As Stepper pummeled, Grand Slam ejected from the computer, transforming and letting Cloudburst have a barrage of missiles.

"Are you all right, General?" he asked.

"I've been better," she said, picking up Cloudburst's rifle—human scale, like he'd been. "But I vote for getting out of here."

"I vote for staying and kicking aft," Stepper said. Landmine was out cold, his human face covered by bruisers and a pair of black eyes. "Lousy punk kid ambushed me as soon as I was out of sight. Gonna enjoy putting the hurt on him."

"Save it, Stepper," Marissa snapped. "We don't have the time or the power to fight. We're getting out of here. That's an order."

Stepped regarded her for a moment, weighing his options. Shortly after her becoming their liaison, Convoy had left standing instructions that put any order she might give on par with Artfire's. Stepper might have been a jerk, and he might not have respected her... but he knew when to listen.

"Fine," he snapped, turning quickly to one side. As he did, a rifle appeared in his hands and belched a mighty blast of lighting. It left a giant hole in the wall, which he quickly made bigger with his fists. "Then let's _go_ already!"

"So," Stepper said as he drove back towards Earthforce HQ, "you guys knew it wasn't me all along?"

"Artfire did, anyway. Briefed me just before Ranger there showed up in the conference room," Marissa said, quickly sketching out the events that had led to her kidnapping. "Had Medi report that the cassettes were worse off than they were, so I could sneak them with me when he made his move. Hadn't counted on the others escaping... But it worked out well enough, for a rescue mission."

"And now what? They're gonna be coming for us. And these guys don't play fair. Trust me."

"So...it's true then? You used to be a part of this?"

"Back on Cybertron, yeah."

"How did you get out?"

"Faked my death."

"Oh."

Stepper's speakers suddenly flared to life and Raindance's voice, filled with self-importance, came through. "We just received a message from Artfire, General. Base's long-range scanners pick up Metalhawk, Ranger, and Waverider only a few miles behind us. We might have to be ready to fight. But the others are on their way."

"Then we make our stand," Marissa said. "I'm tired of running. One way or another...this has to end now."

A sudden, strange noise filled the air. At first, she couldn't identify it, but then she realized it was Stepper: Stepper _laughing_.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"Didn't think you had it in you, General. You're pretty tough, for a fles...for a human."

"Why, Stepper," she said, smiling despite the coming danger, "I didn't know you cared."

"Don't tell anybody. It'd ruin my rep."

Stepper came to a stop and allowed Marissa to exit. Moments later, Raindance swooped down from the sky, dropping cassette-mode Grand Slam from his cockpit. As the red cassette fell, both transformed, merging into Slamdance.

"Are you...certain you wish to be apart of this, General?" Slamdance asked. "This is likely to get very dangerous. I'm not sure we'll be able to protect you."

Marissa hefted the rifle she'd taken during their escape. "I'll get to cover, I promise. Try and get in a few shots when I can... I don't think they'll hurt me..."

"I'd rather not take that chance," Slamdance said. "but...there's little we can do."

"Eh, she'll be fine," Stepper said, waving a hand dismissively. "The others on their way?"

"Yes... They should be here shortly."

Then, at the farthest edge of their vision, they could see the black ops Autobots come: a sleek black hovercraft, a golden jet, and a goldish sports car—Waverider, Metalhawk, and Ranger. If Artfire and Twincast were there, they might have a chance, but Stepper and Slamdance alone...

They would have to hold their ground. They would win this... they had to. Such creatures as the Vector Section, working in the shadows, abusing their power... such beings could not be permitted to operate. Even as she took cover behind a boulder, the Autobots of Vector Section arrived.

For a moment, both sets of Autobots simply stood facing each other, not saying a word as the hot desert sun beat down on them. A slight breeze, kicking up the dust, whipped through the air.

"You've got two choices, basically," Metalhawk said. "You can either get off Earth now, forever, or...we'll terminate you. And you _know_ how dangerous a battle between us can be."

"Not happening," Stepper said. "This is _our_ planet. I might not like it, and I might bend the rules, but you guys... No rules, no supervision, no nothing... It's why I quit. Not about to let a group who, as far as I'm concerned, aren't even Autobots anymore, run free."

"Stepper's right," Slamdance said. "You're not going to stop us. _We're_ going to stop _you."_

"Not likely, old timer," Ranger snapped. "I kicked your aft before...and I'll do it again."

"You," Stepper said, the smallest hint of denial creeping into his voice, "got lucky."

The two groups continued to stare at each other for a moment, neither making a move.

"I've given all the warnings I intend to give," Metalhawk said, finally breaking the silence. "Surrender now...or face the consequences."

"Guess it's the consequences then," Stepper said. Then he pulled his lightning rifle and shot Metalhawk.

Though not considerably powerful, Stepper's lightning rifle was still rather effective...especially at close range. Metalhawk was thrown back, the golden armor of his chestplate singed and smoking. While Ranger and Waverider were still reeling in surprise, Slamdance let them have a barrage of his missiles. The projectiles hit the two and detonated, filling the air with flame and smoke, temporarily obscuring the "Autobots" from sight.

"It... can't have been that easy, can it?" Slamdance asked.

"Not on your life," Stepper said. "Get airborne...now!"

Slamdance, thankfully, didn't ask questions, and simply launched himself skyward, even as Stepper threw himself forward and transformed. Seconds later, bursts of laser fire came streaking out from the smoke clouds, bursts that would have certainly fried the two Earthforcers.

Ranger and Waverider turned their attention to Slamdance, firing their air rifle and laser pistol, respectively. The cassette-combiner bobbed and darted in the air, easily avoiding their shots and returning fire with his lasers and missiles. The two were forced to scatter, moving in opposite directions while still trying to get a bead on him.

Which was when Marissa made her move, sticking her head out from behind her hiding place and letting loose with a staccato burst of energy from the rifle she'd taken. The blasts lanced out, striking Ranger in the chest and punching holes through his armor. The final burst actually punched _through_ his body, finishing its travel through the air by sizzling into a boulder. He shot a look in her direction and tried to bring his weapon up, but his arm didn't seem to be responding to the orders his brain was sending it. Instead, jets of sparks sputtered from the holes in his chest and he fell down with a satisfying thud.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Slamdance grappled with Waverider. Even as the rogue Autobot converted into his hovercraft mode, unleashing a roof-mounted laser, it was obvious Slamdance had the upper hand. Though Waverider was more powerful, Slamdance was more agile, especially since he could fly. His missiles and lasers scored several hits, knocking Waverider back into robot mode. He fired his rifle again and this time his aim was true, or rather, it would have been, had not Slamdance separated into his component parts, the beam passing harmlessly through the empty air where his midsection had been.

Now, caught between the airborne Raindance and the just-landed Grand Slam, Waverider was finished. A final barrage of missiles and lasers put him out of the fight.

"Chalk up another victory to us!" Raindance exclaimed, swooping around to see if Stepper needed any assistance.

"We were lucky," Grand Slam said. "If you hadn't listened to me and instigated the separation..."

The argument between the cassettes was interrupted by a sickening _crunch_. Marissa silently cursed herself for not paying attention to the whole battlefield and turned in the direction of the sound.

Metalhawk, his armor dirty, singed, and even cracked in places, stood over the limp form of Stepper. The black Autobot's body was full of holes and one of his arms had been blasted clean off...but what was most disturbing as that his head had been crushed...

"I warned him," Metalhawk said. "I warned all of you, what would happen if you got in our way. We're all Autobots... We're not supposed to be fighting each other. We're all on the same side. But he wouldn't listen... And I swore to protect this world...by whatever means necessary. But you can end this. Easily. Just surrender Marissa to me, and get the slag off this planet."

"Not...not going to happen," Raindance said, and for the first time she could recall, Marissa heard fear creeping into his voice.

"As long as there is fuel in our bodies," Grand Slam added, "we shall not yield to threats or terrorists, particularly those who are unfit to wear the Sigil."

"We all serve the same goals," Metalhawk said quietly. "Just in different ways."

With that, the Autobot who may have once been General Hawk brought up his rifle and prepared to fire on the cassettes. To their credit, neither veered off, but instead kept heading toward him. Marissa readier her own weapon for a burst, though what affect it would have on the powerful Autobot, she did not know.

They needn't have bothered. Seconds before Metalhawk could fire, a pair of missiles slammed into him from behind, detonating with great force and bowling him over. Locating the source of the missiles was easy; a massive blue-cabbed car carrier, hauling a fire-truck and a responder vehicle was hard to miss. The car carrier quickly pulled to a stop near Metalhawk and disgorged its passengers, along with a blue boom-box. Quickly, Convoy, Artfire, Medi-1, and Twincast transformed, pulling their weapons and surrounding the downed warrior.

Casting a glance at Stepper, Convoy shot a look to Medi-1 and she moved to the fallen Earthforcer's side, her hands retracting and medical devices appearing in their place. As Grand Slam and Raindance took her place in the circle around Metalhawk, Convoy hauled him up by the throat.

Holding Metalhawk at eye level and close to his face, Convoy snarled. "What gives you the _right_ to turn your weapons on other Autobots? What gives you the _right_ to _call_ yourself an Autobot? What gives you the _right_ to treat life with so little regard?"

With each question, the Earthforce leader got louder, his powerful fingers digging deeper into Metalhawk's throat.

"Convoy... Stop," Artfire said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Whatever choices led to this, killing him won't make it better. It'll only bring us down to his level."

"You're right...of course," Convoy said, letting Metalhawk unceremoniously drop to the ground.

"You...can't stop us," Metalhawk wheezed, his voice distorted and full of static. "And you're too weak to kill us."

He was about to add a further taunt, but Convoy shoved his rifle against his chestplate. "One more word, and Autobot or not, I will shoot you. Kill you. I don't want to...but I believe you'd approve—a classic case of the ends justifying the means. I don't like you, or what you stand for, but I'm willing to be reasonable. You leave _us_ alone. You leave _Marissa_ alone. _We_ let you and your cronies live. And if you _ever_ try anything _ever_ again, if one of us or Marissa so much as catches a glance of you, in disguise or otherwise, I'll devote every ounce of our energy to finding you and wiping you out. You're a disgrace to the badge you wear..."

He tapped the barrel of his rifle hard against Metalhawk's chestplate. "Do we have a 'deal?'"

Resignation set in across Metalhawk's features. "We...have a deal."

His features softened slightly, shifting to concern. "Will you allow me to retrieve my comrades?"

"Just do it quick and get out of my sight...before I change my mind."

With effort, Metalhawk got to his feet and went over to the downed forms of Waverider and Ranger. At each of their downed forms, he kneeled and opened a panel in their wrist, activating some kind of circuit that restored their armored-human-shells and left them at human size. Placing them in a compartment in his chest, he transformed to his jet mode and was soon gone from sight.

As soon as Metalhawk was gone, Convoy let his rifle drop to the ground with a loud clank. He seemed mentally exhausted and panic seemed to settle itself on his face in great quantities. "Thank Primus he bought that...I didn't think I could go through with it."

Marissa quickly moved from her hiding sport to join the Autobots. "Glad you could make it back," she said. "I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't shown up..."

"You'd have managed, General. Today, if nothing else, has shown just how capable you are."

"Maybe... But I wasn't capable enough to save Stepper..."

"I wouldn't count him out yet, Marissa," Medi-1 interrupted. "Metalhawk did a number on him...but he's too tough to count out yet." She held up a small, rectangular box. "His body's a mess...but his brain module was _just_ shy of being crushed. It'll take a while, but he can be rebuilt..."

Relief washed over Marissa. She wasn't overly fond of Stepper... but she didn't want him dead. And, Marissa hated to admit, she saw a lot of herself in him. In her early days with the EDC, she'd been very similar, convinced she didn't need any help, that the rules didn't apply to her, that she could do anything... Nearly getting killed had changed that. Perhaps it might do the same for Stepper, though she doubted it.

She cast a glance skyward, looking where Metalhawk had been. "Do you think we've seen the last of them?"

Convoy shook his head. "No. But now that we know they're here... e can prepare. Next time...we'll be ready for them."

There were still many questions left unanswered. Was she really going to be tossed back in time? Did Metalhawk truly believe he was acting in Earth's best interests? Were he and his group even actually Autobots? And if she had time-traveled had history changed, without anyone being the wiser?

And had Metalhawk ever actually been the General Hawk she knew from childhood? With their strange technology, the rogue Autobots would certainly have been capable of pulling such a stunt, but there were her father's last words, and the nagging sense of familiarity she'd experienced when she looked into his eyes... It just seemed so unlikely, that the kind man she'd once known could have been something so far from it...

But those were questions for another day. For now, she was simply grateful to still be alive.

Though their world had suddenly become a darker place, they would persevere. As the first rosy fingers of dawn began to shine, the Autobots rolled for home.

Author's Notes

First, major thanks to Princess Artemis and CobaltTF, who served as my betas this time around.

Metalhawk, Waverider, Cloudburst, and Landmine are all Autobot Pretenders, most notably featured in the Japanese TF-series _Masterforce_, where they had integrated themselves into human society for years, via their Pretender shells.

Ranger, physically, is based off the all-gold Japanese re-issue of Jazz. The same itself is taken from the _Masterforce_ name for either Getaway or Joyride (I forget which, off-hand).


End file.
